Dimensions: Left 4 Dead
by breaking ground
Summary: Matthew was an ordinary teen, until a random event that tossed him into the biggest fight of his life, coincidence or is something sinister work here?...
1. Prologue

_Oh come on you cannot be serious_ thought Matthew Knight as six more infectees rounded the corner, attracted by the sound of gunfire.

Opening fire upon the new arrivals he cursed his luck before turning and making a dash for the end of the road, turning into an office block and subsequently sprinting up the stairs away from the moaning monstrosities. Pushing a office desk in front of the door Matthew sank to a sitting position and allowed himself to breathe. Putting the pistol back into his pocket he reached out and grabbed the cold hard wood of the desk and let out a sigh, pulling himself up he began searching for any helpful items.

_The air is warmer up here _he mused to himself when suddenly a sharp pain exploded from his thigh. Yelling in pain, Matt staggered back from the gurgling creature and felt another searing pain from his mouth, fresh warm blood coursed from the incisor shaped holes in his lower lip. He shouted again the anger filled cry giving him strength to whip out the pistol, trying to keep the creature in the sights was a challenge, his vision started blurring.

Dropping the gun and falling heavily to his knees, he began to claw at the ground something hit him from behind and everything went quiet.

._.

"Matthew" a voice called, "Matthew" the authoritive voice insisted this time.

Letting out a barely audible groan Matt brought his vibrant blue eyes to meet the lifeless grey eyes of his English teacher Mr. Smith.

"Yes sir"? the seventeen year old answered, grinning not giving away his previous state of slumber.

The teacher replied in monotone "this occurrence will be present in your report" before he continued "Now remember class a test on Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet tomorrow…." As Mr Smith walked back up to the top of the class Matthew's greatest friend and companion, Henry 'Indiana' Jones elbowed him in the side and whispered, " Man what happened to you, you were out cold".

Whispering back Matt laughed " I was imagining I was in the Zombie Apocalypse ", "hell, that's not going to happen 'till twenty twelve, so no worries" Henry muttered.

"Eh, lets talk later, Smitty there is about to have a fit"

"agreed"

._.

After the bell rang and Matthew grabbed his books from his locker and rendezvoused with Henry.

"So Indy what's the damage"? inquired Matt

"well nothing much considering it's our second week back, just maths and science, and you"?

"well that bitchy art teacher wants an essay about daVinci and then a fill in the answer sheet for physics, you'd swear he thinks we're retarded but it means less work for me, you get where I'm going"

._.

The journey home wasn't a long one thirty minutes at the most, with Matthew and Henry stopping in the local shop nearly every day. The trip made shorter with the addition of company, both friends knew that without the other thirty minutes seemed a lot longer.

…."And here I go again on my own, going down the only road I've ever known, like a drifter…Henry's singing stopped by a light slap to the back of his head.

"Can you _please_ be quiet, that racket is enough to wake the dead" snapped Matthew, the school day being less then kind, he just wanted to get home and have some peace, something his over active friend found hard to produce.

His friend looked at him and motioned to the lucozade he just bought "who pissed in your water"?

"Uh, sorry I just don't feel so good" said Matt as he rubbed his forehead. Looking at Henry he noticed that his lips where moving, but no sound was forthcoming, "Wha…"?

And everything went black.

._.

Guns, he could hear guns, and screaming. Jumping off the couch and turning around he beheld a television, his television. He was at home? Attached to the TV was an Xbox 360 and by extent his friend Henry, playing Grand Theft Auto Four and by the look of things getting too much fun out of setting fire to people.

Somehow hearing movement behind himself Henry turn to look at Matthew

"well hello there sleeping beauty", his reply composed of 'shut up' was followed by "what happened"?. "I had to lug your fat ass all the way here that's what happened" laughed Henry "but seriously you just fainted, lucky for me we were just down the road from your house, are you ok"?

Matt's eyes gained a far off look as he reassured his companion he was fine.

"Here Henry, stay a bit longer, I got Halo: Reach" Matt teased

"Aha, you got me there, lets whoop some covie ass" came the reply.

._.

At around half six Henry left for home, Matt had the house to himself, he cracked open a coke and flicked on the TV. Until the crunch of gravel informed him of the arrival of his mother, Sarah Knight.

Greeting his mother she began the motherly ritual of quizzing him on his day, leaving out his blackout he informed her of all he thought necessary. Over a quick bite to eat he asked "don't you have to pick up dad soon"?

Sarah checked her watch "yeah I 'spose I should, his plane'll be landing soon". Standing up she made her way to the coat rack in the hallway, shrugging her coat on she asked "I trust you can look after yourself"? her only response was a traditional teenage grunt followed by a muttered 'as if I haven't been doing that for years'.

Walking out the door his mother gave a shout of goodbye and closed the door.

Stretching Matt made his way to his 'lair' as his parents jokingly called it, and turned on his computer, surfing , his favourite pastime, he noticed one of his subscriptions had been updated, a story based around a continuation of the game Mass Effect Two, and the coming of the genocidal machine race called the Reapers.

A lazy smile made its way to his face as he imagined having powers like biotics and being able to fly around the galaxy and save the day and the universe acquire the team and tech he would need, the stuff of dreams, well his anyway. Realizing it was after eight pm, Matt gazed out the window and spotted something trailing in the star dotted sky, a shooting star. Shrugging he imagined himself as a hero again and gave it a try, nothing.

._.

After waiting a while longer his parents still not home Matthew flopped himself on his bed and donned his earphones as he slipped into unconsciousness yet again.

Flashing images with frightening clarity and realism plagued his minds eyes, people being torn apart, more dying from asphyxiation, a change, people cheering, burning corpses a figure standing on a building amid a ruined city and falling, his minds eye looked down on his own hands and they were covered in blood, _it was his own blood._

A voice then rang out not dissimilar to the gravemind in the game Halo three.

_You will know pain._

And the dark claimed him once more.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Ok, after a few months of doing nothing I finally write this chapter up in a couple of days. Go figure.**

**So here it is for those of you who give a sh*t. **

**Don't forget to R&R.**

_In the inky blackness a figure stirred, as its head swayed a blinding flash lit the room. It began to blink furiously to rid its eyes of salty tears, a thought made itself clear my limbs are bound to the table._ Coherent thoughts seemed hard to come by for however long the being lay there. It's mouth moved, a litany of unintelligible words tumbled out of cracked lips. Something brushed it's arm, it could see figures moving in the edge of it's vision but couldn't cling to consciousness as it's strength and energy seeped away slowly.

**._.**

The Doctor was happy, they had found another subject a mile or so outside their compound. The only thing bothering him was the fact they had seemed to come out of nowhere, one minute nothing, then when the second patrol car made it's rounds, there he is laying on the side of the road. The Doctor sat at his desk, the clicking of a keyboard and an eventual beep signified the entry of his password. Mumbling under his breath he begins to type his report of a previous experiment.

Doctor T. Kerins had filed his report, shut down his console and fluidly stood up. He began to rifle through some pages littered about on his desk their rough texture giving him a smile to match a Cheshire cat. Each page held the reports on the most successful _participants_ of his pride and joy project. All subjects had met terrible deaths, yes, but the knowledge gained by each one of them had been invaluable to the continuation and eventual completion of his pet project. A slight whoosh of air announced a lab assistants arrival in the stillness of the office, the doctor whirled around, his lab coat giving the sinister impression of a vampiric cape.

The young man stumbled his words at first, the doctors reputation preceded him.

"The subjects are ready for the procedure sir" he then nodded to his superior and scurried back through the dull, lifeless facility.

Doctor Kerins smiled, he was at the head of something beautiful, something wonderous, and it was _his_.

._.

The sound of torrential rain battering the windows can be heard throughout the dark room, a man enters. His features obscured he sits at a computer terminal, the screen lights slice through the inky blackness. A red loading bar flashes on the screens bottom half.

Lines of text appear, black filling in the white.

_-Welcome Director-_

_Operation /Arracht/ Files Initializing… _

_Acquiring Subject Data…_

The lines of text flow down the screen, depicting various people and the procedures used. Eventually the scrolling stops at an entry.

_Subject 2-57_

_Male, Caucasian_

_Unknown Origins_

_Processed: Yes_

_Tests Completed: 8_

_Stage Reached: 3_

_Survivability Rate Of Particular Strain: 37%_

_Additional Information: 57 has preformed extremely well, each test has been accepted without problems. By this stage in testing most subjects begin to show complications. Apart from 21. 25 and 42 this is the most successful of this strain, We are getting closer! Side affects have presented themselves they include a minor growth stimulation, eyes that appear to glow (like cats eyes almost) and damaged voice box, but nothing of any consequence._

_I don't know where we got him, he's in better condition than most of the waifs and strays we collect. I know what we're doing can be called morally ambiguous but I hope this wasn't a snatch and grab case._

_The information gained on 57 will contribute to the furthering of the research on all strains, especially 1, 3 and 5._

The screen glared brightly for a few more seconds, then the room was thrust into darkness again.

._.

_In waking hours it's like looking through fogged glass and my body feels numb, sometimes my body doesn't respond to its brain's own calls. Uncounted time passes, like being a slave or in extreme solitary confinement, only being freed long enough to be tortured. The pain, the pain is consuming my mind, please… stop_

…

…

_WHY WON'T IT STOP! _

._.

The sound of incessant beeping and people shouting met Matthews ears, the sounds constantly fading in and out.

"He's waking up"!

"Get the anaesthetic"

"hurry, hurry"

"Shit, this can't be happening"

Matthew opened his eyes, straining against the pure white glare. Lifting his arm up to eye level revealed numerous wires and tubes, Matt's mind went into overdrive. Every movement took Herculean effort, but he _had_ to get them out. In the distance a monotone droned loudly. Something grabbed his other arm, turning wildly he witnessed a needle being driven into his arm.

As Matthew faded out of conscience he could hear clearly again.

"Oh my god we nearly lost him"

"damnit what happened"

"run the tests again".

With that Matthew dropped out of reality and into the safety of his subconscious.

._.

_I'll never be free of this place _thought subject 57, with a mind full of melancholy. He rattled off what he did know about his situation.

Time: _unknown_, date: _unknown_, place: _unknown_. Matthew had been placed in a cell that would've made a Spartan apprehensive, thanks to a rapidly deteriorating mental state. The bastard scientists had ironically saved his life after three suicide attempts to escape this horrific plane of existence. He was to quote one of the pricks 'special', and was kept alive. Even though they tortured him regularly, leaving him in such pain that it left him crippled until the next batch of tests. At least he gave them something to remember him by when he did have enough energy, but those times only came during blue moons.

To pass the time that wasn't spent simmering in a puddle of his own piss, he talked to himself often re-enacting movies, games and books that his fractured mind could remember. This led to him creating his own world to hide away in, resulting in a 'degree' of madness.

._.

Something was wrong, no one had come for him yet.

Alarms blared and flashes of blood coloured light had forced him to huddle in a corner, head down, he whimpered. The sound beat his ears, the light flayed his eyes, more pain assaulted his system but it didn't make him numb. It didn't smother his mind until he slept, it made him feel tense, awake, aware. Now and again clusters of uniformed men would charge by his cell, their voices harsh and grating.

._.

Hours later it stopped, the noise died down, the men calmed. He pieced together what happened from the talking men, someone had tried to escape, they were nearly successful as well.

It _was_ possible to escape!

For the first time he could remember Matthew felt something, he felt hope. He just had to hold on, bide his time. He had to get out, had to escape, to save himself.

Matthew had purpose, a will to live, now he wouldn't give up easily.

._.

Days passed, Matthew kept hope, each day observing, each day thinking. He waited patiently, waiting for them to make a mistake. Whenever they came he would act obedient, there was no reason to waste his energy, no reason to make them suspect anything.

He fought for survival.

._.

Matthew's fragmented mind pulled itself together for the coming effort, they would regret torturing him. Subject 57 of strain Two would have his revenge.

_I'm a ready as I'll ever be, time to make it count!_

And with that all hell broke loose.

**Well I'm quite happy with way this turned out, if you did too please let me know if not, well tell me where I went wrong.**

**For those who will read this: You might want to put this on alert, as I will be writing for a while, without posting, then I will post the other chapters when completed this story arc.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: So I lied I will not be trying to write up the whole story before posting, as it has taken me since last update to write this chapter and to my personal anger and disappointment it's not even my goal of 1000 words + for the chapter.**

** So with this development I will just update as I write (Very Slowly) so apologies to the twelve of you who read this.**

**Now enough wallowing in self pity, on with the show!**

* * *

Humming to himself Darren strolled through the corridors, it was the end of the week. Out of around fifty armed forces recruits he and fourteen others had been selected to join codeword Arracht's security detail. In the mornings he was collected from and returned to home under secrecy, even he didn't know where the base was. But it was the end of the week, that meant a hefty sum of money in his bank account.

Cue his whistling.

He was on his way to the locker area to get changed and hand in his standard issue M16 assault rifle. He had always thought that such a weapon was overkill but seeing some of the 'subjects' as the scientists called them had changed his mind.

._.

Strapping on his own .45 millimetre pistol he bantered with a few other officers who were suiting up for duty. Darren stepped through the door frame and the lights went out.

The intercom system blared to life, the frantic announcer yelling about a loose subject. The emergency lights whirred and bathed the hallways in an eerie red light. Unholstering his pistol he began to make his way to the canteen hall, a rally point in case of emergencies. Reports of gunfire echoed throughout the hallways, along with disturbing and inhuman shrieks. His shoes struggled to grip the smooth surface as he pounded around corners.

_At the intersection turn, turn, shit… turn right, right, yes! _He was trying to keep calm but his mind kept replaying scenes from various horror movies viewed in his down time. Finally! A plain white doorway never looked so good. Halting at the sound of light splashing, Darren cursed as he looked down. The expletive preceded by a sharp intake of breath didn't do justice to the amount of blood seeping from underneath the door.

Darren began to panic, he began to _figuratively _shit himself.

Tracing back his steps he returned to the intersection, he found himself looking down yet again, looking at numerous shell casings that littered the ground. His eyes following the trail to a gory pile of a soldiers innards, Darren want to gag but his eyes kept moving. Another person lay against the wall, a scientist, her white coat stained with her lifeblood that no longer coursed through her veins. He raised his pistol and sighted the figure standing over the scientist, there was blood dripping from its hands and it was breathing heavily. The _thing_ lunged at him, pulling the trigger in quick succession Darren felt it collide with him and his vision disappeared.

._.

Red, always red, by now it was as normal as the skin on the back of his hand. He could hear someone behind him, he had already killed to escape his cell, what was another few for freedom?

His hands, drenched in blood, his mind blurred with dull red, in the back of his mind Matt recognised new heights in his senses and his speed. But the thought of freedom blocked all from distracting his mind, even the deaths at his hand, even the _things_ in his hands.

With Matthews escape came the release of the other horrors this place birthed, few attacked each other, they attacked together with a crescendo of howls. Turning to the man with the raised gun Matthew yelled in anger and struck.

._.

The base was in chaos, the research wing had been set ablaze, the creatures being researched had been set loose and all during the guards shift change. In the courtyard a group of five guards were circling around a giant abomination, bodies strewn around the premises like rag dolls. Gunfire rattled in the crisp night air, people shouting and screaming mixed with blood curdling cries of the dark shapes that flitted around the complex. The fighting lasted long hours the fires having spread tongues of flame licking the morning sky, the area akin to an ant hive.

One figure burst through a doorway, picking themselves off the blood soaked ground they ran, into the wilds, running away.

Hours later the fighting had stopped the human victors picking their way through the mass of bodies looking for wounded, when a survivor was found a single crack rang out, one for every person in the crowd.

The outbreak had been contained, the facility was destroyed, the clean up began, any personnel left would be relocated as was their way.

There'll be another time.

._.

His body ached, forcing open his eyes Matthew realised something was wrong, something lightly pinched the skin of his arm. Fighting to keep his eyes open it hit home.

He was strapped down on a table, he wasn't free of his hell.

Throwing himself off the bed Matt began to shout.

* * *

**I'm not sure if this comes across serious or not but just as a note when the adventuring and gun toting begins this will become less serious untill the end, when the real story begins...**

**So hit that review button, hell flame for all you want, at least that will keep me warm for the rest of winter and thank you for reading.**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: I meant to ask this ages ago, Did anyone advertise for this fic or something? As soon as it hit the second page the views doubled in a few days and I was left wondering 'how the hell?' Anyway here's the next chapter, enjoy.**

* * *

The shouting was the first thing that alerted the nurses, when the resounding smash of machinery rang throughout the hallways orderlies sprinted into the room. A young man had a nurse griped around the neck and a doctor was slumped on the cold floor, his hand dripping eye catching red blood. The young man, when shouted at by one of the orderlies took a double take as his mind registered what he was doing. Dropping the nurse he backed into a corner and hid his head in his hands.

._.

Eventually the people left after taking off some bandages that had encased his chest. They left him in a bed, left him with questions, left him alone. After a while his mind searched through the hazy gloom that was his memories and produced a word _hospital_, a safe place, somewhere you went to get fixed. But Matthew's senses told him otherwise, the air was tinged with the scent of blood old and new and death, death permeated everything. Even the wind carried ill tidings in the forms of screams and shouts.

Eventually he fell into a fitful sleep filled with looming figures, gunfire and blood.

Waking with a start Matthew took in his surroundings, he was still in the hospital. Getting up quickly he realised he was dressed in a gown, luckily not an open back. Rummaging through various cupboards he found a pair of trousers, an inch too short, a t shirt, an inch too long at the arms and to top off the raggedy look, his shitty runners (Trainers to you Americans) stolen from a body at the site of his escape. The colours were very lacklustre to his eyes, but they did their job.

Opening the curtains, it was still dark outside but Matt could see like it was daytime _what the hell _he questioned. Thinking nothing of it he began to make his escape, a more conventional method this time, climb out the window and run like crazy.

He didn't know where he was going, all he knew was it felt good to be able to just run free.

._.

After the next day Matthew felt hunger clawing at his stomach, meandering slowly through crowds of people he came upon a table on the walkway packed to the brim with coloured round things. Passing by the table, his hand darted out as quick as a snake and clutched a smooth round object.

An apple, he remembered, the vibrant green enticing him to bite. Bringing his teeth down on the fruit he took a bite and promptly started gagging. The vile taste repulsing his senses and rejecting the bright orb. After the disaster of the apple Matt was apprehensive about trying new foods, he spent the rest of the day exploring the city he didn't know the name of. Finding himself in an alleyway Matthew threw himself to a sitting position on the cold ground hugging his knees and hiding his head, weary and hungry he fell into a deep sleep.

._.

Footsteps echoed trough the corridors, they echoed worry. Upon reaching their destination a man knocked twice on the hard wooden door, voices, arguing it seemed. He shuffled his feet, uncomfortable with 'eavesdropping' on his superior.

"…Yes, all were followed",

"..I don't know how…"

"no…"

"if we don't send people in it might… yes that was the estimate"

"…some were, off by certain amounts, you've seen the specific files…"

"we never predicted for one of them doing that and therein lies my concern…no…you don't decide those matters"

"…very well, this is on your head"

With that something was slammed on a table..

The man winced with the end of the call, he whispered under his breath and stood still for a few seconds, gathering his wits. He pulled the reason for his visit from under his arm, he knocked again.

"Enter" the voice answered, grasping the door handle he entered the office.

"Sir, sorry for the interruption but you need to see this".

Doctor Kerins snatched the folder from his hand, his eyes darted from side to side, scanning the files like an automaton. The man stood static as the doctor read on, ten minutes passed, doctor Kerins's head shot up.

"How…" He questioned.

The other man stuttered, trying not to ire his superior

"I d-don't know s-sir, the report only came in recently , I came s-straight here".

Pointing to the door the doctor ordered 'out, now', while the other man skittered out the doctor approached his telephone.

"It's me, we have a problem, the estimates were off, way off".

._.

Matthew turned at the hissing emanating from behind him, approaching the blackened door cautiously his arm stretched out. He paused as the door rattled slightly then gripped the worn rusted handle and pulled.

"Oh holy shit" he yelled hoarsely as something flew out of the doorway at lightning speeds, a cat. Rubbing the back of his neck he chuckled nervously, a small dirty brown cat. The small creature sized him up from behind an overturned wardrobe, deciding he wasn't a threat the dishevelled feline sauntered over to Matt with it's tail in the air.

_Well aren't you a cocky bastard_ he observed as the cat rubbed itself on his leg, purring like a buzz saw.

The decrepit old shack was a perfect hideout, in amongst a cluttered group of old houses pushed to the side didn't garner any attention.

Two days before Matt had been staying at a shelter, a place to stay and keep safe. He had been there for about four days along with other vagrants when each day more and more would either go missing or get extremely sick. On the fourth night one of the men began screaming and howling he started to wildly flail about and when another tried to restrain him, he bit the man. Both were taken away to a hospital and Matthew fled, again.

Now, now he wasn't sure what to do, walking through the closest city block in search of a new place to stay he took notice of less and less people. Some buildings had been blocked off with a poster adorned with the letters CEDA which held no meaning to him. Some soldiers had rolled into the shopping centre but he stayed far from there, on the side of caution.

He didn't know what was happening, but he could feel in his gut that it was bad. For now he had 'acquired' spare supplies from the shelter, enough to last a few days and had found a place to stay, he would wait to see the coming storm.

._.

The city was at the breaking point, the military had begun rounding up people 'for relocation to a safe area' and now due to his inability to hide Matt was cooped up in a group of people heading to the mall. Even with his head down Matt could smell the fear and tension, the air felt heavy and threatened to suffocate him. Listening to the murmur of the crowd he became engrossed in his own thoughts and as soon as his reverie started, it ended.

At the back of the group a woman screamed, the crowd panicked and the soldiers shouted. People began to run in different directions yelling frantically, Matthew was shoved to the ground as he tried to rise the crowd surged like a wave, knocking him down again. Unintentional kicks rained upon him and as he turned in an attempt to shield himself the crowd parted before him. He witnessed figures rushing from alleyways and pouncing on stragglers, he watched as a soldier was set upon by five, _things_. Matt gagged at the sight as one began to feast on the young soldiers neck, blood coated the already patchy ground as the arteries were torn open.

Still on his backside he back pedalled furiously as one of the things locked eyes with him, it was once a man, that much was clear wearing a now bloodied grey formal suit. But that was no man, rage filled it's features, it's face contorted into a snarl, gore dripped from it's mouth and it's eyes devoid of life. Releasing a guttural cry it advanced on Matt.

It sprinted at him, getting closer and closer, Matthew held his arms up to defend himself and in a heartbeat it was on him.

Blood sprayed his face as the things head exploded, behind him stood a soldier, pistol raised.

"Run for the mall" he yelled and raised his pistol again firing at the creatures littering the street. Wasting no time Matt jumped up and ran restlessly in the direction of the retreating remainder of the crowd.

* * *

**And finally it gets interesting... Don't forget to review!**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Wow fast update! That just means the next will be slower...**

**Action scene in this chapter, if it's too confusing or something else is wrong please tell me, and to relieve some of the confusion the zombies are labeled with numbers I.E 1-8.**

* * *

Two weeks, that was all it took. No one knew how it started but those left alive know how it could end. At first there was the bloodthirsty 'commons' fast, dangerous and usually found in large groups or as the remaining survivors termed them 'hordes'. They were tough, but could be dealt with if one had a good enough weapon. Then the specials began appearing, tougher, faster, with claws, sharper teeth and increased intelligence. I am documenting this so to pass any important data to the military when we reach the nearest holdout, on the next few pages you will find descriptions of each infected that I have knowledge of.

Matthew kept reading, the journal was continued after the infected descriptions.

Today we lost half our 'team' I myself have been bitten, the others were immune so I must be clear as well.

The following page, which chronicled another few days and a journey to an evacuation station ended in torn and blood spattered pages too destroyed to continue reading.

Sighing heavily Matthew dumped the paper on a table top and stomped over to a worn old couch. Laying down he attempted to sleep, it had been another tiring day in the apocalypse and he was weary from running.

._.

It was a big day today, today he would begin an epic adventure through the wastes and bring salvation to the doomed masses. Standing up straight he released an 'epic' yawn. After a series of pulling, zipping and grabbing he was ready for action, although moving across a room provides difficulty when one discovers both pairs of shoelaces are intertwined. One cringe worthy fall later and a restructure of the way he tied his laces, Matthew was once again on his way. Belting a stainless steel kitchen knife to his waist and snatching a 'small person' sized fire axe from the table, his weapons of choice. _Well actually my weapons of choice would be an AK-47 and some long sharp bladed object, but you can't be picky in the apocalypse_.

Grasping handle on the big red door Matt pushed outwards, revealing a half destroyed building being used as his hideout. Standing heroically while letting the breeze ruffle his hair he appraised the scene before him, looking for the best route to his objective.

"Right, scissors, where the hell would I find some"? He mused, the epic quest to save the world, a search for scissors. Obviously to cut his hair, the damn stuff had become a burden, constantly falling in front of his eyes.

Matthew had had enough, and so it had to be assaulted as if it were the city of Troy.

Finding purchase on a window sill he began his descent into the city of the damned. Sneaking through the city was no easy feat, infected littered the streets and specials prowled night and day for a meal. But staying light on your feet and staying aware of the surroundings kept you safe, to a certain extent. Matt tried his best to keep in the shadows when traversing the streets, strapping the axe to his back and going 'ninja' with the knife on any common infected bastard who got in his way. He conversed quietly to himself that suspected other survivors were or had been through this area on the conclusion that there seemed to be less commons then usual, in other words, a lucky break for him.

_Thank whatever deity listening that the infected aren't omnipotent, sensing me at a whim and constantly harassing me_. He praised, then crouched as another common shuffled out from behind a car.

"Come closer you mother" he growled but then something unexpected happened, karma caught up.

The infected's foot found its way into a small box, which then caused the infected to stumble forward, onto a big spiky splintered girder lying on the road. This caused the zombie like creature to scream like a banshee, which in turn summoned all the streets infected residents to look at the walking buffet.

There was eight in total, all varying in distance and condition, he ducked under the firsts swing and gave a quick, short stab to the back of the head, _one down_. The second charged at him with the third close behind, giving two slashes across number two's chest then thrusting the knife into three's neck, a twist of the blade brought it down. Number two came wheeling around and landed a fist to his shoulder, it would have gotten another in if not for a knife through it's eye. _Three down_. Four and five came simultaneously, Matt brought his foot up and kicked five away and started to carve up four's hands and face. But five came back with a vengeance and hit Matt square in the jaw, the knife flew out of his hand across the street, bull rushing the zombie for a change shoved it on it's back and Matthew curb stomped the monsters head. _Five down, whoa_.

Drawing the axe Matt hopped over a few sandbags lying in the road to buy himself time. Six and seven now, the intelligence of the infected shone at this point when six decided to scale a truck instead of running around it like seven. This was fine for Matthew who swept seven's legs and swung the axe downwards for a gruesome decapitation of the fatal kind. _Six down_. Six decided trying parkour wasn't for himself and resumed the pursuit of the survivor. Just then Matt thought of something crucial, _where's eight_? In the manner of a slasher movie the infected in question popped up from behind him and leapt onto his back. Dropping the axe and thinking quickly Matt spun round and back pedalled, while reaching behind himself and sticking his thumb into eight's eye. The effects entailed, six ran into eight, who let go of Matt, the three collided into a heap on the ground.

Jabbing his fist into eight's face gave him enough time to roll away, as he rose six made it's move by jumping on top of him. The grotesque monster began to bite wildly at the air between them, as Matt lifted his arms a bite landed right on his forearm. Yelling in pain he took a chance, shoving the zombie's arms in different directions he clutched each side of the thing's head and twisted, hard. Springing to a standing position Matthew became the predator, he took what remained of six's hair as it flailed on the ground and smashed it's face again and again off the ground until there was no resistance.

A few minutes later Matthew collected the discarded knife and axe returning them to their previous positions. Taking extra time to compose himself and to spray his wound with a disinfectant solution, then dress it.

He kept on moving.

._.

He travelled at an increased pace, not noticing the lack of common or special infected. When he finally reached a place that would hold scissors, the building had been renovated into a safe house, an armoured stationary shop.

Upon arriving he quickly shut himself in and searched for infected presence, when he found none Matt had made up his mind. It may not be his own safe house but it was safe, had food and a bed, it would do. Dragging his feet to couch adorning the back wall Matthew thought, _my hair can wait_ and subsequently fell into a deep sleep.

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**Eh... I took a dig at L4D in here, it's pretty obvious and it's something that annoys me about both games.**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Well another chapter, I didn't cop that there's two Fallout 3 references in this one 'till I reread it. Unless the building mentioned IS real... **

** Thank you to all my reviewers, I know the early chapters are hard to follow and that will be fixed, although it shouldn't need fixing in the first place. The people depicted in this chapter, actually do dress like that, believe me.**

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Ouch, a word usually replaced by various expletives to express pain, which was why Matthew had been using it in sequence. After taking off the dressing wrapped on his arm and visually assessing the wound 'ouch' was his response. The bite wound had scabbed over and attached to the improvised bandage, to prevent infection the bandage had to be removed.

Insert 'ouch' where ever applicable.

Rewrapping the wound with a strip of cloth torn from a discarded, but surprisingly clean, shirt. Pulling the knot tight Matthew hissed quietly. Eyeing the scissors on a large bookshelf devoid of books and full of items that could be applied to fight of infected. Clearing a space for a shard of mirror found in a corner he gingerly lifted the scissors to his head. Five quiet minutes and a few fistfuls of hair later saw Matthew with a decidedly _shorter_ haircut.

He shrugged to himself muttering 'it could be worse' before brushing loose strands from his shoulders and stepping out of the vague circle of hair.

Looking out from behind a barred window two thoughts struck him, one _'what now' _and the other _'did it just get colder in here'_?

The best course of action was, do nothing. Surviving was just another word for staying alive, usually staying alive meant staying out of the infecteds way. So when the crackle of gunfire in the evening air reached his ears he cursed curiosity and went to find the source of the lightning death.

Reaching for the bar keeping the metal door locked his head suddenly burst with pain, the thud of his knees impacting the ground barely registered as he writhed on the floor, hands on his head. He could hear something calling him, a primal part of himself, pulling him away.

._.

_Damnit, bloody Smokers._ the group had been together from the start, survived together, now thanks to some smartass Smoker Sean and Joseph had been separated from the other three. The Smoker yanked Joseph, Sean ran to help, then the biggest horde they'd ever encountered showed up and it all fell apart. The two were hard pressed to fight off the massive horde.

"Joseph, we need to get the hell outta' here"

"where're the others"?

"don't know, there's nothin' we can do, there's no point in gettin' ourselves killed"

Joseph's reply was drowned out by the horde baying for blood, Sean tossed a pipe bomb into the crowd and yelled 'RUN'.

Leaving the ticking device behind, they both sprinted, literally, for their lives to the nearest egress. An alley, but even before they reached the end the rapport of a pipe bomb detonating and the howl of the horde rushing after them sounded.

"in the dumpster, go, go" Joseph indicated to the container to his left.

"I'm gonna' kick your ass if this doesn't work" answered Sean before they both jumped in an shut the top.

The leaders of the horde rounded the corner not seconds after the lid of the dumpster was shut and continued racing out through the winding pathway and onto another street. The two survivors listened intently for another couple of minutes before opening the lid and hopping out and retracing their steps.

"Huh, that worked" remarked Joseph "uh, I mean, yeah it worked".

"lucky you it worked, now I don't have kick your ass" Sean grinned

"oh shit"

"what, what"?

"the others…" Joseph let the sentence trail off

Starting with a jolt Sean looked at his friend "lets go".

The duo returned to the origin of the groups separation, Joseph's voice rang out then cut off as Sean warned of him summoning more infected.

"Wait, Joe, where's the car"? sean asked, his head darting examining the destroyed vehicles close at hand, Joseph followed his friends movements.

He took in a sharp breath "it's not here"

Sean grunted an affirmative as he delivered a kick to a hunter' carcass "gobshites left without us".

"well there's only one direction the could be going" reasoned Joseph gesturing towards the groups previous heading "the Statesman hotel".

"well what're we waitin' for, there's no time to waste, I wanna beat down Stuart for leaving us behind anyway".

Joining back up the two began their trek through the damned city.

A figure intently watched the survivors from a vantage point in a second story window. When a course of action was decided the figure moved to follow them by rooftops. Rushing to catch up the figure wondered how he would get down if the need for haste called for it.

"Damn it".

._.

Matthew had been watching a couple of survivors, they were interesting to say the least and he planned to introduce himself. Not yet though.

They worked well together but constantly insulted and threatened each other. Their names apparently were 'Sean' and 'Joseph'.

Sean wore a, what Matt believed to be an originally white hoodie, with a large yellow 'M' taking up the front and a bandolier of shotgun shells across his chest. The blue-ish denims, mismatched shoes and ridiculous long back hair tied into a haphazard ponytail only completed the strange ensemble. It seemed his choice weaponry was a baseball bat, bloodied like everything else on both persons, and a shotgun strapped on his back.

This 'Joseph' had a jumper adorned with a tick, a pink tick, the whole jumper was, bright or would be if not for the various stains one picks up in an apocalypse. Like his companion his clothes reflected the harried life of a survivor, red tracksuit bottoms and a air of worn shoes. In his hands he held tightly to a rifle coloured in a desert pattern, on his back was a long slender wooden stick curved at the end.

Matthew paused to adjust his coat the zipper jammed and cursed while trying to get it loose. As it finally released, his ire dissipated sighing he then searched for a way down.

Navigating the roof's circumference he found none, not wanting to lose sight of the survivors Matthew rushed to the side of the building open to the street. Lifting one foot then the other he now stood on a small ledge that ran the edge as a protective barrier, he flexed his arms and licked his lips in anticipation. Judging the distance with a glance and looking down the few stories that awaited should he miss the target, Matthew sucked in a breath.

He jumped, leaping forwards, stretching outwards… _NOW_.

Grasping the streetlight he let the inertia dissipate and swung around, facing the pole perpendicular to the earth. Wrapping his body around the metal he released his grasp lightly to allow himself to slide safely down to street level. Hopping off Matt brushed his palms on his leg wear gazed up to the sky and the approaching darkness. Unhooking the axe form its holster he began to trace the path of his quarry. Jogging to catch up he picked his way through the street, the way led to an intersection, not knowing where to go he decided to follow the most recently deceased bodies.

_There they are_ he thought, they had just ran down another alleyway, picking up the pace with the sound of gunfire Matt concluded now was the best time to assist.

Sprinting through the alley and making yet another turn to yet another street Matthew could hear shouting, composing himself he dashed around the corner. Straight into the two he'd been chasing, they all jumped with fright with coming face to face, _although in fairness they haven't shot me._

That thought process was cut short with the one recognised as 'Sean' shouting 'run for fuck sake' in his face and manoeuvring around Matt. Something began shaking, staring down the alley he realised why the others were running. Turning and following suit he said only one thing.

"TANK"

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**As always, please leave a review.**


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